Hush, My Boy
by thatcrazygingernerdgirl
Summary: Dean get's thirsty in the night, only to find something very distressing, on the floor of the kitchen. Slight Wincest, Insane!Sam, Protective!Dean. Mid Season 7


**AN: ** **Yay! More wonderful Sammy angst. I spend a lot of my time on tumblr, so this inspired by yet another post (sorry! Credit to the dude that published that.) Okay, it's probably not great, but oh well, enjoy!**

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It was a quiet night. The crickets were chirping softly in the long grass; the night birds were cooing to each other. As Dean pattered down the stairs, trying to make a little noise as possible, he stopped for a second at the open window. The sky was clear, with little stars shining like crystals on dark velvet. It truly was a beautiful night. He went to the cupboards to get a glass and stood at the sink, filling it with water. Something glinted in the moonlight and caught his eye on the kitchen floor. Dean then became aware of a large, dark heap, next to shining object.

"Sam?" he asked roughly, dropping the glass. "Sammy? Are you okay?" Sam didn't reply, and stayed hunched up on the kitchen floor. He hands fumbled with the object on the floor, his breath haggard.

"It won't fit…" he muttered. "It won't fit!" Dean picked up a fragment, and realised it was shard of a mirror. He dropped it like it was on fire.

"Hey! Hey, hey, Sam!" he tried to wrestle the shards off his brother but Sam nearly growled at him in return.

"No!" he snarled. "I have to put it back together…" he forced two pieces together, ignoring the crimson blood that stained his hands from the sharp edges.

"Sammy!" Dean grabbed his brother's shoulders. "You need to get a grip. You need to put yourself back together, are you even trying!? I appreciate what's going on, but it's getting pathetic now." Sam let out a wounded grunt and threw himself against the wooden cupboard doors.

"Why? Why should I keep on trying?" he asked, slamming the back of his head into the wood repeatedly. "Am I even worth it Dean? All I do is just make a mess of everything, I'm nothing but trouble for you and Bobby. I don't deserve to be saved. But I'm still trying. I am trying so, so hard to pick up the pieces. But, some days, I just think 'What's the point?' because every time I have one of those stupid nightmares, I wake up on the floor, in a puddle of my cold sweat. And you know what? I just lie there for hours, trying to regain my sanity enough until I'm able to get up and go back to bed, only to have the stupid dream over and over again. Do you know what that's like? They're so real, Dean. I feel the pain like it's actually happening. So why can't you UNDERSTAND?" Sam threw himself against the doors again, face scrunched up in utter pain. Dean stared at this creature of pure rage and depression.

"Sammy, oh my God," he held Sam close to him, as he had done when his brother died in his arms all those years ago in Cold Oak. "It's okay. I'm tough on you sometimes, I know," he felt his brothers body jerk as he gasped between his sobs. His hair tickled Dean's neck and he gently grabbed a handfull, holding it to his face. "I'm sorry, Sam. I am so, so sorry. But you deserve to be saved, you are worth it so, so much, Sammy." They two brother rocked together on that kitchen floor, both with tears dripping down their cheeks.

"I have to fix the mirror," Sam said quietly, reaching down to the glinting silver. Dean grabbed his arm.

"No Sam, it doesn't matter. But, the mirror's like you isn't it? And you're trying to put yourself back together, but there's nothing there to make it stick. I'll be your glue, Sammy. I promise. You may be a pain in the ass sometimes," Dean continued to stroke the back of his brother's head. "But you're my little brother, and I'll always love you. You'll get through, I promise. I'll help you." Sam muffled another sob. "We both will. We've both been to Hell and back, right?" Dean cradled his brother. As the moon from the window splashed over the grimy kitchen, it reminded him of a song he'd heard once. Bobby, with his throaty growl, would sing to him when John was away and Dean couldn't sleep. Dean cleared his throat.

"_Hush, my boy, for the moon can hear,_

_Hush little one, for the crickets do chirp,_

_A song of peace for you,_

_So rest now, rest, for tomorrow his near._"

It was hardly Beethoven, but it brought back memories of sleepless, childish nights. Sam quietened a little and Dean sighed. He sang the next verse:

"_Hush my boy, for the birds do coo,_

_Hush little one, for the grass is still,_

_The sun will shine again,_

_So rest now, rest, for a brighter day is waiting for you._"

The angry sobs were replaced by the sound of the owls and night-life. Soon, Sam's breathing returned to normal, nearly in time with Dean's. Dean kicked the shards a way with his bare foot and they sat there, lost to everything but each other and the sound of the outside world. "You'll see Sammy, you'll see… I'll save you, I promise."


End file.
